


Happy Birthday, Neville

by Kiertorata



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 15:34:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19403245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiertorata/pseuds/Kiertorata
Summary: Neville has learned to avoid stressful human connection. But maybe it's time for him to finally let down his carefully built walls.





	Happy Birthday, Neville

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lenapinewoods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenapinewoods/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Lena! <3 I rushed to write this little thing that came to mind for your birthday. Hope you like it!
> 
> Rushed and unbetaed, so if there are any mistakes left, please point them out. <3
> 
> (Tää on niin turha ficci :-----D)

Neville managed the botanical collection of the Museum of Natural and Unnatural History and conducted some research on the side as well. He worked behind the scenes most of the time and working alone suited him; it allowed him to pour over his beloved samples with meticulous care and not have to spend precious social energy talking to people.

But lately, going to work hadn’t been nearly as much fun. His peace of mind had been severely disrupted by a newcomer, Gabrielle Delacour. Gabrielle had started as an intern to help sort out the archives – travelogues and scientific notes from expeditions, which were admittedly a mess – and had been doing her best to cause havoc since.

Bubbling with an energy Neville couldn’t understand, she seemed to be of the opinion that the social atmosphere at the archives was somewhat lacking. Apparently, momentary polite chit chat about the weather while chugging down a cup of tea wasn’t enough to satisfy her social needs.

During her three months at the office, she had managed to set up a bi-weekly after-work routine that involved pints at the nearby pub, sometimes followed by dancing. (Neville had never gone.) She had also arranged a party for a retiring colleague, and an Easter egg hunt around the archives. (This one Neville had been more tempted to participate in for his fondness for chocolate, but he had been on a deadline for an article and had been too busy.)

Seeing the rest of the staff slowly succumb under her relentless charm and leave every other Friday for what was surely a fun night out together (if judged by the stories shared in the break room) felt to Neville like a jab at the scant confidence he had left in his social skills.

While he had learned to put up a front in front of reporters, and his seventh year had done something to dispel his most extreme shyness, when it came to social niceties at the workplace he sometimes still felt like a bumbling teenager. Lately, that feeling had become magnified.

Summer was a little better. Now that the summer holidays had started and some of the staff were on break, things had calmed down a bit.

He was thinking of this as he entered the office building. It was refreshing not to have to say good morning to anyone as he made his way along the hallway. He entered the break room, ready for his grab-and-run routine for coffee.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NEVILLE

A large and what appeared to be a hand-painted banner judged by the wonky, colorful letters, hung from the ceiling. There were balloons all around; the giggling kind from Zonko’s that Neville disliked with a passion. And on the table, a small chocolate cake with illegible frosting.

“I’m sorry, it’s not much of a party, I thought Mrs. Petrakis would be here, but she had to go to her son’s Healer appointment today,” Gabrielle stammered, looking a little flushed. “Everyone else is on their holiday.”

Dumbfounded, Neville stared at the display in front of him, unsure what to say. Gabrielle watched him expectantly, smiling in her open way. She looked cute in her blue summer dress; he noticed she was even wearing a small party hat on top of her light-blond curls.

He decided to be honest.

“I’m happy, actually, that Mrs. Petrakis or anyone else isn’t here. I—” he considered his words. “I know you’ve gone through a lot of effort to put all this together, and thank you for that, but I actually don’t celebrate my birthday. In fact, I sort of hate parties.”

“Oh,” Gabrielle said. The smile fell from her face for a split second. But then, she managed to look at him with an apologetic wince and gave an half-shrug. “I supposed I should have asked you. I thought… Well, since you haven’t come to any of our office get-togethers, I thought that maybe I’d try something different.”

“Well, you didn’t have to. But thanks, anyway. I appreciate you thinking of it.”

He meant it. Any social awkwardness that Gabrielle had unintentionally sent his way was softened by the scene in front of him. He didn’t remember when someone had thought to surprise him like this.

“Did you make that yourself?” he said, nodding at the cake.

“Fleur helped,” she said. “I’m terrible at baking. As you can see.”

Neville thought the clumpy frosting looked charming. He summoned a plate from the cupboard and helped himself to a slice.

Gabrielle followed suite and sat across from him. She poured out the tea. With the pitter-patter of rain on the window, the quiet ticking of the clock and a warm cup of tea in Neville’s hand, the atmosphere in the break room felt cosy.

“It’s good,” Neville said through a mouthful.

“It’s disgraceful. All my French family would faint if they saw it,” Gabrielle said with a snort. “But it’s not as bad as I thought. More tea?”

Neville nodded.

“I’ve wanted to get to know you better ever since I arrived,” Gabrielle said after a moment of silence.

Neville felt a mix of irritation and insecurity ripple through him. He wondered if Gabrielle had poured over the Prophet’s article about him, just as the many girls who had tried to approach him since.

“You seem so nice and quiet,” Gabrielle continued. “I’ve seen you talk to the plants sometimes when you think nobody is looking.”

“I don’t— I only do that when no-one’s around,” Neville said, flustered.

“It’s cute! I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Gabrielle said. “It means you’re a warm person.”

Neville could feel a slight heat rise to his cheeks that he hoped wasn’t too visible. He decided to change the subject.

“How have you settled in England?” he asked.

“I love it here. I always wanted to come, ever since Fleur moved,” she said. Then, Neville thought he saw a shadow of seriousness on her face. “It can get lonely sometimes. When I moved to London… I imagined I’d be living the best time of my life. Fleur had no trouble making friends, and of course she met Bill early on and got to know Bill’s friends. But actually, it’s harder than I thought to get to know anyone in such a big city. Sometimes I think that the most time I’ve spent talking to anyone is with Florean Fortesque. He has family in France so he always likes to hear about how things are there.”

She waved her hands animatedly as she spoke, which Neville had noticed she did often. She only paused to cut another slice of cake. He wondered if the humorous lightness she projected most of the time was partially out of masking her loneliness.

“Florean is nice,” he said.

“Yes, but I’d also like not to have to buy ice cream every time I want to have a good chat with someone,” Gabrielle said.

“Ice cream is good!” Neville said. He realized he had a bit of frosting on the side of his lips and wiped it off, embarrassed.

Gabrielle laughed, and her smile seemed to brighten the room. She was so at ease around people, and good at making others feel at ease too.

“You should come to the pub some time,” she said. “I promise it’s not scary.”

“I don’t like to drink, it always makes me feel even less like I know what I’m supposed to say,” Neville said. He regretted dismissing her idea so immediately as soon as the words left his mouth. He didn’t want to keep… isolating himself. But changing deeply-rooted habits didn’t come at the tap of a wand, as they said.

“Something else then. I don’t think any less of you for not wanting to be social. But… don’t you think it could make work a little more fun if you got to know everyone a little better?”

“Would you… Maybe I could show you around London a bit?” Neville said. “I’m not much of a city person, but I know my way around. The Muggle botanical gardens are nice.”

Gabrielle looked at him warmly. “It’s a date.”


End file.
